Into Darkness
by Lara-Jayd
Summary: Revan turns to the dark for the sake of the light and while facing the consequences of her actions begins to remember why she built her army in the first place. Please R&R, constructive criticism always appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Into Darkness**

**Chapter One**

Her hair was soaked, plastered to her neck and clinging to her cheeks with a combination of sweat and heavy rain. The muscles in her legs ached with fatigue as she climbed the narrow staircase, a fatigue that was only faintly dulled by the sweet but increasingly elusive touch of the Force. She reached for it but found herself grasping fruitlessly, floundering through an intangible barrier. And yet again the rich, abundant miasma of the dark side called to her so clearly, so close, so easy and so powerful…

Revan gritted her teeth. _I know where that leads_.

_I won't go there again._

She gripped the handles of her lightsabers tightly, feeling the cold metal ridges digging securely into her palms. She wasn't sure why she still held them – she had taken care of the last Elder Rakatan warrior on the level below and wasn't expecting to find more of them up here. All she, Jolee and Carth needed to do was shut down the magnetic field that was keeping the _Ebon Hawk_ grounded. Then they could get to the Star Forge, rescue Bastila and defeat Malak.

Such a monumental task expressed in so few words.

Revan could still feel Bastila through the bond they shared, though she was a faint, distant presence. There was only an echo of the determination and fearless passion the Jedi had radiated whenever she was close by. Now it was clouded, in shadow, a lingering numbness… which was only marginally better than the horrific pain that had echoed through her mind as Bastila was tortured.

_Don't think about that now. She will be safe soon._

"Ella… only a little further," Carth murmured from behind her. She almost winced at the name she had thought belonged to her, but she had recoiled from it so many times before that it had started to lose its impact.

She glanced back, but had to turn away to avoid seeing that look in his eyes again. Pity, worry… fear. _He wonders about me. Ever since the _Leviathan_ he has brooded over who exactly he fell in love with._

That was something else she couldn't afford to think about right now. They had a task to complete, a mission to fulfill. _Focus on the mission._

Suddenly there were no more steps.

Carth stepped out of the staircase close behind Revan, moving ahead of her protectively with blasters at the ready. There was no one in the circular room, however. There was nothing but the hum of a single terminal on the opposite wall.

He holstered his weapons and turned back to Revan, automatically awaiting her instructions. She had lead their party from day one, even though Bastila had claimed the position on Taris. The younger Jedi had ended up following Revan's orders anyway. Sometimes Carth found himself wondering if her leadership ability was natural or if she had learned it as a Dark Lord of the Sith, but then he sternly reminded himself that thoughts like that would do no one any good.

He shied away from admitting it but when he looked at her, he could see it. He could see her dressed in black robes, covered in the black skin discolouration that seemed common to all those who fell to the dark side. Her beautiful sapphire blue eyes shone a dull reddish-yellow in his vision, and her face appeared carved in stone. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Thankfully, the vision fled. When he opened them again he saw the lovely guileless Ella Oron, whom he had rescued from an escape pod on Taris. She shook with the cold, although her face betrayed no indication of discomfort as she studied the room at the top of the temple. Every muscle was taut, the lines at the corners of her eyes more pronounced than usual. Her knuckles were white as they gripped her twin lightsabers. Every instinct he had screamed at him to go to her, to take her into his arms and comfort her, but his conscious mind held him back. She was still a mystery to him in some ways… He placed his hand on her shoulder instead, trying to lend her strength that way.

"Revan." Jolee spoke up for the first time since they had entered the Rakatan temple. His voice seemed eerily calm compared to the tension drowning the room. "We do not have time."

His tone was gentle, though his words were not. Revan seemed to respond, however, steeling herself beneath Carth's hand. "No, we don't," she murmured. She left them near the stairwell and headed for the ancient terminal.

"She's not holding up well," Carth said quietly.

"Mm." Jolee grimly stroked his moustache.

"We had to kill a lot of Rakatan, I know, but it was _necessary_," he insisted, wondering peripherally how certain he was of that.

"That is part of it, I believe, yes," Jolee replied cryptically. They were both lowering their voices so she wouldn't hear them. "I think that feeling all those lives ending… one after the other and most at the tip of her saber… it brought back memories. She is remembering what it was like before."

"Do you think she would—"

"Fall again?" Jolee looked up and stared at Revan's back. "I—don't think so."

The hesitation was tiny, but Carth felt an unwelcome rush of fear at that. So he wasn't the only one with doubts. Hearing Jolee put them into words… He didn't know Revan, the Dark Lord. He didn't know who she would become, what she would be capable of.

Well, perhaps that wasn't precisely accurate. He knew exactly what the Dark Lord had been capable of.

Across the room, Revan was looking over her shoulder at him curiously. _She must have felt that fear…_ He forced a reassuring smile, and she gave him a cautious smile in return before continuing to work on the terminal.

"She won't fall," he said firmly, but even as the words left his mouth he wondered if he was just trying to convince himself of that. He really didn't know, and that bothered him the most. He thought he knew her on the _Leviathan_, but then they had run into Malak and he had told them the awful truth. How could he even take a guess at what she would do?

Revan made one final adjustment to the terminal before her, then straightened. "Is the field down?" he called.

"Yes," she replied as she returned to where they waited. "At least, I hope—"

The rumbling of stone gears cut her off mid-sentence. The three of them spun to face a door they hadn't noticed before, cut into the stone of the terminal room. As it opened a rooftop courtyard was revealed, paved in stone and open to the air. It was large enough to accommodate the small fighter currently resting at its far side, with room to spare, but Carth paid no attention to that. Standing in the doorway was Bastila Shan.

Revan felt her heart leap into her throat as Bastila entered the room. Suddenly her presence sparked to life in Revan's mind, comforting in its familiarity and shocking her with its sudden reappearance. It was painfully clear just how much she had missed Bastila now that she had settled back into the familiar niche in her mind. "Bastila!" she cried, hurrying over to the younger woman and pulling her into a hug. "Are you all right? How did you—"

Bastila returned the hug with a strength Revan had not felt from her friend before and a jumbled mess of feelings came tumbling through their bond. She said nothing for a while, then, "Revan…"

Her voice was thick with emotion, but not the relief Revan would have expected. She moved back and held Bastila at arm's length, studying her with a frown. There was something wrong. Bastila was trying to keep something from leaking into their bond…

"Bastila, I'm glad you're back," Carth began, moving to join Revan.

Before he could go more than two steps, Jolee's hand gripped his arm firmly. "Wait, Carth." His voice was ominously dark, and Carth reluctantly obeyed.

Revan ignored them, her focus on Bastila as her heart sank back down into her chest. Bastila's eyes were closed, but the faint black lines on her face were clearly visible. "Open your eyes, Bee," she coaxed quietly, knowing what she would see but hoping against it all the same. She fought the urge to squeeze her own eyes shut.

Bastila opened her eyes, and they were a dull burnt orange in colour. As Revan watched, they filled with tears, and Bastila allowed the darker feelings she had been holding back to seep into their bond. Revan expected to feel revulsion, pity, sorrow, but instead she felt a pulse of searing anger followed by a rush of affection for her closest friend. Bastila was so strong, so good, more of a friend than she had ever known, and look at what _Malak_ had done to her!

"The Force failed me, Revan," Bastila spat. "I was calm and serene like a good little Jedi even as Malak poured his lightning into me. I held to the light and swore I would not be angry, I would not hate him but it didn't stop—" Her voice broke and Revan reached for her, holding her tightly.

She was well aware of her own emotions. Every pang of anger, every wave of hate she felt she tucked away deep aside until she felt as though she would be sick. "You're all right now, Bastila," she murmured tightly.

"I couldn't help hating him… and when I did, I felt better. It felt like if I could just survive his—his _games_ with me, I could _use_ that hate. I could destroy his evil once and for all."

"You can't do that, Bastila…" Revan sighed.

The younger woman pulled away, eyes glinting with that old, familiar fire of determination. "Not without you, I can't."

She locked eyes with Revan, who flinched at the weight of that stare but did not look away as she fought to keep her anger and frustration at bay. "Together we can finally end this," Bastila told her.

_An end, a conclusion to all this wanton destruction, this tyranny my former apprentice adopted as his own. He wasn't always like that…_

"At what price?" Revan whispered.

"We are just two souls, Revan. Can you compare that to the souls of more than a billion sentients? Does it matter what happens to us in the end, as long as we achieve our goals?"

Empty words, meaningless justifications… "You haven't been there, Bastila. You don't understand what it does to you."

"I'm there now, Revan." Bastila's voice was harsh and bitter.

Before she could stop herself, Revan laughed. Bastila frowned. "Oh, you think so, do you? Your skin is lined and your eyes are red, so you think you're a Sith Lord?" Her laughter died away as she studied her friend's smouldering expression. Bastila had never liked to be teased.

"No, Revan, I do not believe I am a Sith Lord. I haven't fallen that far, and I don't intend to. But you have, and you know what it's like. You know what to look out for… you can protect us."

"Can I?" Revan murmured. "I don't remember if I was able to do that before. I certainly wasn't able to protect Malak." She shook her head distractedly as a memory came to mind.

_A BOOM and a blinding flash of light, and everyone on the bridge was tossed to the deck plating like they were rag dolls. She blacked out for a while, then faded back into consciousness. She didn't know how much time had passed, but she could see the bulkhead above her and knew she was still on board her flagship._

_She stared at the ceiling, unable to move, drowning in hatred and frustration. A woman appeared, one of the Jedi… there was horror and fear in her eyes as she beheld the fallen dark lord of the Sith. Revan saw that the woman held her mask on her lap. She said something, but by then everything was fading back to grey._

_It had to have been Malak. There was no other explanation; the Jedi had arrived in a small, fast ship with no backup. He had fired on her, his Master, his companion, his _friend_… the dark side had taken complete and total hold of him, and it was all her fault…_

To Jolee it must have sounded too much like she was considering the idea. "Revan. Bastila is not herself," he interrupted firmly.

Bastila's eyes flashed. "I am more myself now than ever, old man. I see things more clearly than I ever have. I have found the means to Malak's destruction!"

"No you haven't, you silly girl. You've just fallen for a whole lot of lies."

It was possibly the worst thing he could have said. Bastila appeared taken aback at first, then furious at being scolded like a child. "How dare you—" she began, then closed her eyes and visibly composed herself. "I am not here for you, Master Bindo. Just Revan."

Revan studied Bastila closely, intrigued by how easily she had gained control of her emotions.

Carth strode over to Revan, ignoring Jolee's warning hand. "Wait just a minute here. Revan is not a Sith Lord anymore! We've been through this before, remember? And you were quite vocal on the subject, Bastila."

"But don't you see, Carth?" she demanded, pacing away from them then turning back. "I didn't completely understand the situation then. Malak has the entire Star Forge and a legion of Dark Jedi at his disposal. We cannot do anything against that by ourselves, not without a little extra help!"

"The Jedi Council seems to think we can—"

"The same council who used me for my Battle Meditation, and twisted Revan's mind to achieve their own ends?" Bastila's tone was deceptively sweet now. "The same council that kept both Revan and I on a short leash so that we could run all over the galaxy and find their Star Maps for them? Forgive me, but I believe I have lost all faith in the Jedi Council. I would rather finish this on my own terms. Even if those terms include the dark side."

"The Dark Side is powerful," Revan interrupted, silencing the both of them. She looked from Jolee to Carth to Bastila, who met and held her eye contact. "I—I don't know if I will succeed if I face Malak on my own," she admitted, voice uncharacteristically small.

Carth grabbed her by the shoulders none too gently and spun her to face him. "It is _not_ more powerful, Revan," he insisted. "I know I haven't felt it myself, but I've seen what it does to people. They hate so terribly that it consumes them."

She looked into his eyes, those earnest brown eyes, and for a brief moment rethought her decision. But only for a brief moment. "When I face Malak, I _must_ succeed, Carth. The fate of the whole galaxy rests on that moment. Bastila is right. What is my soul, compared to the billions upon billions of sentient beings in this galaxy? And—maybe she is also right when she says I could protect us both. We have to try."

"Revan, you cannot do this," Jolee insisted. Slowly, he pulled his lightsaber from his belt. "I won't let you do this. I will not be responsible for standing back and allowing the Dark Lord reborn loose upon the galaxy. You need to step back and think about what you are saying. You need to talk to someone before you do something you will regret for the rest of your life." His tone was as close to pleading as Jolee Bindo could come.

Revan stared incredulously at the old hermit from Kashyyyk as he advanced on her, lightsaber deactivated but held ready in his right hand. She placed a hand over her own saber, unwilling to draw it.

"Jolee, wait!" Carth said, stepping between the two of them. "She is your friend, you can't—"

"She is a Sith, Carth. She has chosen her path. Step back."

Revan grabbed Carth by the arm and pulled him out of the way, ignoring his protests. "Carth, stay out of this." She turned back to Jolee, unhooking her saber but still reluctant to ignite it. "I don't want to fight you, Jolee," she said.

"Then come with me. This is foolish."

"I will not! I can't just run and hide! I must face Malak and I must win. To do that, I will use _all_ tools I have at my disposal. Bastila is right. We can do this together."

"Revan, you do not remember all you did… before. You slaughtered hundreds with your blade, billions on your order. You sacrificed whole planets to achieve your objectives, and you corrupted dozens of young Knights and Padawans who were swayed by your charisma. Most of these now lie dead, wasted lives. You decimated the Jedi Order, Revan, and you murdered countless innocent people. If you choose this path, how can you be sure you will not end up following in your own footsteps?" Jolee's voice was quiet but firm, and she found herself considering his words carefully.

He was right about that – she didn't remember everything she had done before the Jedi gave her a new identity. Fragments came back to her now and then, and what she saw scared her, but there was no denying the sheer power she felt within herself as she experienced these visions. If there was anything she wanted in the world, it was to end the campaign of terror she had begun, the campaign Malak had continued in her absence. That she had had good intentions to start with didn't matter.

Enough was enough.

She reattached her saber to her belt and raised a hand, ignoring Carth's sharp intake of breath and Bastila's sudden rush of triumph. "Leave, Jolee. This is your only chance," she ordered.

Wordlessly he ignited his saber and began shifting his weight toward a battle stance. Before he could take a step, she blasted him with Force lightning.

Her muscles burned with the fire of dark side energy as his legs collapsed beneath him and he fell unceremoniously to the ground. She pulled back, shaking her hand vigorously to rid it of tingles as she watched him. He moved slowly, clearly in pain, trying to get to his feet. "Stop it, Jolee," she said.

But he was gathering his feet beneath him and pushing himself up. She thrust her shaking hand out and the lightning poured from her fingers once more, burning and crackling over his skin. "Stay down," she begged. "_Stay down!_"

The lightning sizzled between them, burning his robes and his hair. She pulled her hand back, breathing heavily with the adrenaline. Smoke rose from his body and occasionally a muscle twitched, but he did not move. She stared at the motionless body of her irreverent but always noble friend, and could not find it in herself to move either.

Carth rushed over to him and fell to his knees, searching for a pulse. "He's alive," he announced finally, voice filled with relief.

"Revan." Bastila spoke up, seeming a little uncertain herself. "We must go. Before he can follow us."

She clenched her teeth and nodded. Her eyes suddenly locked with Carth's, and again she couldn't move. But what he said was not what she expected.

"I'm coming with you, Revan."

And he looked away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Carth and Bastila trailed behind her as she strode across the beach. Neither spoke, but Revan was too preoccupied to care. The decision she had just made was playing heavily on her mind. It had to be the right one, there was too much at stake here...

The others were waiting by the _Ebon Hawk_. Canderous was studying the power couplings beneath the ship with T3, while Mission and Zaalbar had a game of pazaak going on a nearby rock. While she, Jolee and Carth had gone to the ancient temple the others had been tasked with repairing the ship. They had obviously finished in good time and had decided to occupy themselves the way they each knew best.

HK-47 was stalking around on guard duty and was first to notice her return. "Pleased Greeting: Welcome back, Master!" he crowed as she approached.

Mission was next to notice. She jumped up and jogged over to them, leaving Zaalbar to gather their pazaak decks. "Well it's about time you got back! Those parts you found were just right, we finished installing them an hour or two ago…" She trailed off, and her mouth dropped open as she saw Bastila. "Bastila! They found you! Are you all right? How did you get here?" she demanded.

Both Bastila and Revan ignored the young Twi'lek and brushed past her. Revan didn't think she could handle such youthful innocence right now. Mission hadn't noticed the changes in her companions, and Revan did not want to enlighten her, to end that innocence so rudely. What would she say, anyway? _"I'm sorry, Mission, but I have decided to be a Sith Lord again. We can't be friends anymore."_

"Revan…?" Mission called after her hesitantly.

She headed straight for the gangplank. As she set foot on the metal plating, however, a hand gripped her arm. She turned to see Canderous studying her intently. He was not as naive as Mission and had obviously realised what had happened.

"I vowed to be your man, Revan. I do not see a reason to break this vow," he intoned gruffly.

"Perhaps you should look harder." Her voice was colder than she had intended it to be.

"I have seen all I need to see." He let her go and pushed past her into the ship, followed by HK.

Her heart almost skipped a beat as she watched him go. Sometimes Canderous was difficult to figure out, but she knew his declaration of loyalty was completely genuine. She would be glad and very grateful to have him at her side. Was it just loyalty though? Or something more? She mentally shook herself – now was not the time to dwell on such things.

Carth followed him, careful not to look at Mission or Zaalbar as he passed. Zaalbar roared a question and Revan sighed inwardly. It looked like she wouldn't be able to simply ignore those of her companions she didn't want to bring. She stopped at the mouth of the ship, turning to face the others. Bastila took up a position at her back, relishing the role of apprentice.

"Mission, Zaalbar… thank you for your loyalty," Revan began haltingly. "I can't—"

"Hey, wait a minute," Mission interrupted, moving to the bottom of the ramp and standing indignantly with hands on hips. " 'Thank you for your loyalty?' What's going on here? What happened in that temple?"

"Lord Revan has reclaimed her true identity," Bastila announced before Revan could speak. Revan almost winced at the pride and eagerness she sensed in the younger woman. It was clear the young Jedi was very taken with the emotions she was suddenly allowed to feel for the first time in years. She kept her face impassive as she spoke.

"Mission, there are things I need to do. You can't follow me anymore," she explained.

"Follow you? But… we're friends," Mission protested. "And—and Zaalbar has sworn a life debt to you."

Revan glanced at the Wookiee, standing protectively at Mission's shoulder. He would be an asset, but what would Mission do without him? "Zaalbar, if I understand correctly, you cannot be released from your life debt to me, can you?" she asked. He nodded, growling in agreement. "In that case, my wishes are for you to watch over Mission as you would me. You will do this until I have other plans for you. Is that understood?"

He cocked his head to one side, considering. The arrangement was a long stretch under the traditions of the Wookiee life debt, she knew, and even came close to bordering on insult. But if he did not accept it, she would have to take more drastic measures. She would not have a fourteen-year-old child follow her into the midst of the Sith, no matter how street smart and capable she was. She wouldn't survive a week.

Finally Zaalbar nodded in reluctant agreement. Mission made to protest, but Zaalbar roared, startling her and drowning her out. He took a firm hold of her arm and pulled her back, struggling, away from the ramp, then glanced up at Revan. The look he gave her was part confusion, part anger and part grudging thanks. He didn't know why she had turned away from the Jedi path and he was angry she was leaving them behind, but he realized she didn't have to allow him to stay with Mission.

"Revan, let's go," Bastila hissed in her ear. She seemed a little annoyed by the mercy Revan had shown. Revan shot her a reproachful look. Bastila's enthusiasm for what the dark side allowed her to do had her a little worried. She almost seemed like a little girl in a candy store who had just been told she could have whatever she wanted.

Revan pushed Bastila into the ship then raised the ramp. She made her way to the cockpit, where Carth had the pilot's couch. "Is the field down?" she asked.

"It looks like it," he replied, flicking switches and bringing viewscreens to life. Refusing to look at her. "Better strap in."

Carth's reaction worried her too, but then he had been weighing on her mind for quite some time. She wished fervently she had taken the time to discuss certain things with him before the _Leviathan_, before things got out of hand. He had declared his love for her and she had been so stunned that she had simply brushed over it and got on with things. Now she wished she had discussed it with him, explained that while she did care about him, she simply did not feel the same. But it was too late now and every time she looked into his eyes she had to force herself not to wince.

Bastila took the co-pilot's couch as she always had, while Revan strapped in behind Carth. She spotted the look of uncertainty he tossed Bastila while she was concentrating on her instruments. He wasn't comfortable with her, but then again, they had never been the best of friends.

The _Hawk_ lifted off, rotated on its axis and with a deep thrum of energy shot into the atmosphere. Revan watched the dark sapphire sky gradually fade to blackness as they emerged into space. She tried not to think of Mission and Zaalbar, stranded on the world below. She doubted they'd be stranded for long – there were countless other ships crashed on the surface and they were both resourceful enough to either fix one or build a communicator – but the fact remained that they were her friends and she had abandoned them. Good intentions or no.

She shifted in her seat and folded her arms, brooding. They would be at the Star Forge soon. She would face Malak and she would defeat him for good. She had no doubt she would have to kill him, dark side or no. He would never turn back to the light and if he was left to his own devices he would simply continue on his destructive path, murdering billions of innocents and destroying the lives of countless more. And if she had to draw on the dark side of the Force to do that, then so be it.

_These robes are heavier than I remember._

The stray thought crossed Revan's mind as she, Carth and Bastila headed for the elevator to the bridge of the Star Forge. On their way they had come across a computer with the ability to generate different types of armour, including a replica of Revan's old robes. She had donned them at Bastila's gleeful insistence, avoiding Carth's disapproving gaze as much as she could. The grey tunic and trousers were familiar and comfortable, as was the black over-tunic and flowing cloak, but the matte grey armour plating and sturdy black boots were both heavier than she remembered. And she _was_ remembering, more and more, as they ventured further into the Star Forge. A vision of herself and Malak came rushing into her mind as they passed the viewing platform, forcing her to stop for a moment and remember the first time she had stood in this place.

_She stood at the edge of the platform, her apprentice by her side, watching as the first ships began to rise from the depths of the Star Forge. This incomprehensibly powerful station would be the key to her victory, she knew. It could churn out countless ships for her fleet, fighters, frigates, carriers, every type of ship she could possibly imagine. She could set her sights on a particular world and have the ships needed to conquer it within weeks. The sheer power of it staggered her, intoxicated her, and she spent a few moments reveling in it. Anything was possible now. She would have the largest fleet this galaxy had ever known and it would be completely under her command._

_She glanced at Malak, her zealous apprentice, through the eye-slit of her mask. He was growing powerful. Soon he would possess power equal to the fear he inspired in their subordinates. Soon they would follow him because he was Darth Malak; not just because he was Darth Revan's apprentice. She would have to watch him – it was the way of the Sith for the apprentice to challenge the Master, and when he chose to do that she would need to be ready._

_But that time was not yet, and would not arrive in the near future. In the meantime he was completely hers, as the Star Forge itself was hers. Hers to command, and hers to use as she saw fit…_

She shook her head, chasing the vision of remembered power away. A ghost of Malak's presence still lingered, however, and she knew he was ready for her, waiting on the bridge. She felt a tiny thrill of fear, and for the first time in a very long time did not attempt to suppress it. The adrenaline it triggered fed the simmering Force within her. It was satisfying, allowing her emotions to lend her strength. Like a sudden freedom.

She shuddered slightly at that thought – she recognized the looming shadow of the dark side, and although she refused to admit it even to herself it excited her.

"Revan?" Bastila spoke up quietly, sensing the change in her emotions.

"Let's go," she ordered, straightening and continuing toward the elevator. Bastila did not push her for an explanation but simply walked close by her side.

Carth, on the other hand, trailed metres behind the two of them. He seemed reluctant to get any closer, and was uncharacteristically quiet – had been since they left the planet below. Revan wanted badly to go to him, to talk to him… but all matters of time and prudence aside, didn't think that doing so in the robes of Darth Revan would be received too well.

They boarded the elevator and rode smoothly up to the bridge level. A couple of walkways and dozens of dead Sith later, yet another heavy door slid smoothly open. Only this time, behind it waited three Dark Jedi, lightsabers extended and ready for battle. "Great," Carth muttered sullenly. "I thought we'd taken care of them all."

The power radiating from these three was a lot more focused and potent than Revan had sensed in the other Dark Jedi they had come across. These three had been thoroughly trained. Plus they had what the others didn't – experience.

"Revan!" their leader called out, striding forward with a sneer on his lips. "We were told you'd be coming."

"Then why are you in my way?" she asked coldly.

The Sith laughed. "Because killing you is the first step toward a place at Lord Malak's side."

"For all three of you?" Bastila asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course not, Jedi, but we are not stupid. We stand a much better chance of killing you if we do it together. We'll work out the minor details later."

_Not good. They were right about that._ "A better chance, maybe… that does not make it a _good_ chance. We just fought our way from one end of the Star Forge to the other – do you really think you three will pose much of a challenge?" Revan projected confidence into her voice with the Force and played on the fear she already sensed within them. They worried that even with three of them, she would win. They had been a part of her army – they had seen her fight. They knew she had been deadly with a lightsaber… but was she still?

Bastila took up the thread as the Sith leader glanced at his fellows. "There is another option available to you," she said, moving casually forward, her voice like dripping honey. "I don't know if you completely understand the situation here." She stopped and glanced back at Revan. "Standing before you is _Revan_, the _true_ Dark Lord of the Sith. If you swear your allegiance to her, there will be no need for her to kill you today."

The uncertainty from the three dark Jedi was palpable. They badly wanted power, but what was the best way to obtain it? Through Malak, or through Malak's old Master? Revan could almost sense their thought processes. Malak was their leader now, but if they let Revan past would she be able to defeat him and take his place? Or would she bring the Sith Empire crashing down around their ears?

The leader was the first to end his indecision. Revan felt a flash of anger from him before he spoke. "I will not be taken in by lies and tricks," he spat. "You are working for the Jedi, Revan. You are no longer a part of the Sith." He raised his lightsaber and slipped into a battle stance, followed soon after by his fellows.

"So be it," Revan murmured, more to herself than anyone else. She stepped forward to join Bastila and ignited her sabers, the satisfying double snap-hiss blending with the sound of Bastila's double-bladed saber. They took up complimentary battle stances beside one another, while Carth, barely noticed by the Sith, drew his blasters behind them.

With a sudden battle cry Bastila leapt forward, lashing out at the nearest Sith with a flurry of slashes. Revan threw a wave of the Force at the leader, who stumbled backward as he tried to keep his feet. She ran to join Bastila while Carth kept the remaining Dark Jedi on the defensive with a volley of blaster fire.

Too busy parrying Bastila's attacks, the Sith she was facing couldn't spare any concentration to gather the Force in his defense as Revan approached with fingers curled into a fist. He began to turn white as his air was cut off, but doggedly continued to try and block Bastila.

The leader recovered quickly and ran forward to attack Revan, saber twirling. She released her Force grip on the other man's throat and brought her blades up to block his just in the nick of time. He pushed her, putting all his weight into it, forcing her to stumble back as he bore down. Angry at the idea of being overcome by sheer brute strength, she seized hold of his limbs with the Force, throwing him back off her and then freezing him in position. Before she fully realised what she was doing, she ran him through.

She froze and stared at her lightsaber, at her fist clutching the pommel. His weight was beginning to increase as he lost the ability to bear it, but she couldn't move. The saber began to burn his skin and char the clothes framing the hole in his chest as he fell to the floor. She collapsed to her knees beside him, still unwilling to remove the saber despite the growing smell of burned flesh. He had been unable to move, unable to defend himself, and she had struck him down cruelly in cold blood without a second thought.

Carth's heart skipped a beat as he saw Revan fall to her knees out of the corner of his eye. He finally scored a direct hit on the Dark Jedi he had been keeping pinned down, more out of desperation than anything, and none too soon either. He holstered his blasters and hurried over to Revan. Crouching down beside her, he reached a hesitant hand out to her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

She turned her gaze onto him, and he sucked in a quick breath as he saw the beginnings of dark spidery veins threading across her temples from the corners of her eyes.

"It's fast, isn't it," she said. Somehow she had guessed at his thoughts.

He paused. "Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes… but…" she trailed off, turning away. She had let her lightsaber go and now, as they watched, the failsafe kicked in and extinguished the blade, allowing the pommel to drop neatly onto the fallen Sith's motionless chest. "Not this fast. I need to be able to… control it… to keep it at bay."

Carth lifted a hand and gently stroked a lock of golden-brown hair back behind her ear. "You don't have to do this, Revan," he told her. _One last try_. "You don't have to fall."

"I already have," she murmured, staring at the corpse before her.

She glanced sharply up at Bastila, who was toying with her exhausted opponent a little too gleefully. Revan's eyes flashed. "Kill him!" she ordered.

_Ordered_, Carth thought with a chill. Not asked, not instructed, not even begged. _Ordered_. Like a commander. Like a Master.

Like a Sith Lord.

Bastila did not miss it. With a single glance at Revan, she realised that there would be no argument here. She turned back to her opponent and quickly ran him through. When she deactivated her lightsaber and turned back to Revan, she was greeted with an icy stare. "There is no need for cruelty, Bastila."

The younger woman winced and lowered her head. "You're right. I am sorry. I… got carried away."

Revan's eyes softened as she got to her feet. "If we are going to succeed, compassion is the most important thing to remember, Bee," she said, the affectionate use of Bastila's pet name sounding a little incongruous. "We cannot allow ourselves to lose control like that."

"I know," Bastila replied. "Compassion is the cornerstone of Jedi philosophy, after all." Her words were slightly mocking, but her expression was sincere as she looked at Revan. "I will try to remember."

Revan nodded and seemed satisfied, but Carth couldn't help feeling a little skeptical as he regained his feet. How could someone use wild, dark emotions to fuel an evil power, but still manage to be compassionate? Everything he knew about the dark side and Dark Jedi told him that there was no place for empathy in their code.

But he trusted Revan, and if she said she could do it, he would believe it.

"Let's go," Revan said, clipping her lightsabers to her belt. As she moved, her hand brushed the black and crimson mask she had tied there after refusing Bastila's wish for her to wear it. She stared at it for a moment, and Carth saw mixed emotions flitting one by one across her face. He wasn't sure exactly what the mask meant to her, but he knew it was not simply a part of her armour. She did not lift it to her face, however, and Carth found himself feeling more than a little relieved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Into Darkness Chapter Three**

The Star Forge rumbled ominously as Revan, Bastila and Carth continued on toward the bridge. The ground shook almost imperceptibly beneath their feet and Revan found herself wishing she could have a clear view of the space battle outside, if only so she could see what was happening rather than just feel the results.

_Just who was commanding the Sith fleet? Malak himself?_ He had never been what one would call proficient in the area of tactics, but even he should be able to understand that with a limitless supply of ships, there was no way the Republic should be able to get within targeting range of the Star Forge.

"Sounds like Malak's asleep at the comm," Carth muttered, echoing her thoughts.

She glanced at him with a grin and before he realised what he was doing, he grinned back. Her chest tightened and she had to look away, but not before she saw his smile change to a dark, brooding expression.

She ignored it with some effort. Lips pressed into a thin line, she strode through the next archway.

The only warning she got was a whoosh of air as the blast doors slammed shut behind her, cutting her off from Carth and Bastila.

Her chest clenched for a completely different reason and she fought off a moment of irrational panic as she spun around and laid her palms on the thick metal. Bastila had reached immediately for her in their bond and she reached back, reassuring the younger Jedi that she was unhurt and receiving the same reassurance in return. Both women set to work on the door, but Revan soon sensed Bastila's momentary annoyance as Carth shoved her aside and took over. He had no more luck than she did, however, and Revan pounded the hatch with a fist in frustration. She could not continue on to face Malak without Bastila at her side, without Carth's grounding presence and blaster cover…

Through their bond Revan sensed that Bastila was angry, angry that Malak had dared to intervene so thoroughly. She was determined to thwart his little games, but her frustration at not being able to poured into Revan's mind in waves. Revan found herself growing angry as well, irrationally so, and she knew how dangerous that could be. She fought for some semblance of calm, but this anger was like a coil of fire, encircling herself and Bastila even as they both fed it. Silently, to try and take her mind off the building anger, she let Bastila know that she wanted to see how Carth was doing with the door. Promptly the younger Jedi sent a feeling of frustration in return. He was getting nowhere.

Revan paced before the hatch, reaching a hand out to the wall as the Star Forge shook again. This time the jolt was harder, almost knocking her off balance. She glanced at the door separating her from Bastila and Carth. There was no more time. If she didn't kill Malak and take control of the Star Forge now, they would _all_ perish.

_Go_, Bastila urged through their bond. Revan saw a fleeting picture of the young woman seating herself cross-legged on the floor and closing her eyes. She would use her battle meditation to give Revan some time.

Without allowing herself to mull over the decision anymore, Revan took off at a run toward the bridge.

When she reached the doors, she was breathing hard. She used the Force to help catch her breath, but stayed out of reach of the sensors that would slide the door open. She stared at the door that led to her former apprentice and good friend and remembered another time, when he had stood beside her rather than against her, and they were facing the oncoming challenge together…

"_Once we do this there will be no turning back, Revan."_

_Malak stood at her shoulder, frowning, arms folded tightly. His voice was clear and firm, and he was younger and thinner. The tattoos decorated his skull, but they were vivid and new… and he still possessed a jaw._

_Revan ignored him and reached out to the ornately carved stone barrier keeping her from the secrets within. She examined it carefully, studying the ancient runes with a practiced eye. If she was right, if she had studied the correct sources and come to the correct conclusion, this would be only the first stop of many. This ancient temple nestled so serenely in the grasslands of Dantooine would hold the key to unstoppable power…_

"_The ancient Jedi Masters sealed this archway… if we go through we will be banished from the Order. Is what you think we'll find really worth it?"_

"_Yes," she said simply. "And they will thank us for finding it." With a wave of her hand and a careful application of the Force, the stone barrier grated open._

_Malak lowered his head. "Then I will follow you, Revan."_

She clenched her teeth. She had loved him more than she had ever loved anyone. He had been her anchor and her compass, keeping her grounded as she tried to rush off into one hare-brained scheme or another. He always knew right from wrong and he never faltered, never made occasional mistakes… like she did.

But he loved her too… too much, she realised with hindsight. He had never looked at her like a sister, as she had seen him as a brother. He had been _in_ love with her. Those times when she had caught him staring at her when he didn't think she was looking made sense to her now; such a childish thing to do, but so telling. And she had never caught on; she had been too busy first with her Jedi training, absorbing what seemed like endless knowledge, then with keeping her army of Sith soldiers and Dark Jedi from tearing at each other's throats.

She wondered why he hadn't told her, or at least given her some hint of his feelings… but she supposed she must have been falling by then. Love would have been the furthest thing from her mind. Thoughts and feelings of the time were slowly beginning to return to her… as she had fallen further and further, she had become curt and sullen with him, impatient because he was not able to keep up with her. She winced as she remembered how he had never left her, despite how she treated him.

Had she become like that due to the influence of the dark side? Had she realised she was becoming the Master to his Apprentice? Or had she simply been unconsciously trying to push him away, to try and prevent him following her down?

Whatever the reason, her actions had not gone unnoticed. And eventually, he had grown tired of it and tried to kill her.

With that sobering thought, she firmly stifled any further memories. She knew what she would likely have to do today; reminiscing only made it harder. She moved forward and the sensors acknowledged her presence by sliding the doors open before her. She barely paused, striding along the walkway leading to the viewing platforms. Malak stood in the clear space below these platforms, his back to her. Had he been having the same reminiscences? She doubted it. She set her jaw with resolve.

He turned as she approached. "Revan, I have been waiting for you—"

"Save it, Malak," she said. The anger she had previously managed to more or less stifle had flared up once more, threatening her composure. _How dare he attempt to take the initiative, the control in this confrontation? _I_ am the Master._

Without allowing him to reply, she hit the activation button for her energy shield and ignited her lightsabers. A few hurried steps took her within range, and she slashed viciously with both sabers.

Malak's own saber came up and blocked hers just in time, though he was forced to stumble back a few steps in order to brace himself against her furious attack. His height and greater strength gave him a huge advantage, but if she could keep him off-balance or at a distance, she could overwhelm him with her superior command of the Force.

She flourished her sabers in mid-air, this time striking with them one after the other in quick succession. Malak had to move quickly to block her, his crimson saber flashing twice as fast as hers were. She varied her strikes, aiming for different parts of the body as she darted around her former apprentice in circles, keeping him off-balance, on the defensive. She wasn't aiming for a killing blow, not yet, although she wasn't entirely sure why.

Her strikes began finding their mark. As tall and bulky as Malak was, Revan knew he would be finding it exceedingly difficult to keep up with her without exhausting himself, even with the Force augmenting his muscles. Slashes began to appear in his clothing, the wounds beneath immediately cauterized by her lightsaber, and he began to slow noticeably. She pressed her attack, driving him back towards one of the liquid-filled tanks surrounding the room.

She hadn't taken a close look at them before, but as she drew closer to this one she saw the body floating within. It was silent and unmoving, but definitely alive… although its mind was eerily quiet. And it distracted her for a crucial millisecond.

Suddenly she felt something hard and solid impact with her chest, and she was lifted off her feet and hurled across the room. She slammed into a metal support girder and crumpled to the floor with a grunt of pain.

She swore to herself as she slowly and painfully gathered her limbs beneath her and tried to stand. Malak had used the Force to toss her away like a rag doll, and she hadn't been able to resist. Thankfully nothing appeared to be broken, although there was an ominous metallic taste in her mouth and a throbbing along her back. More ominous, however, was the fact that he had been able to do what he had done at all.

She looked up, and froze as she saw him. He was standing before the tank she had backed him into, one arm raised, his expression one of glorious pleasure as he drained the life of the immobile body within. The body shuddered and shrunk in on itself as the liquid within the tank drained away, but that grotesque image was nothing compared to the horrible shrieking of the mind within. Revan winced and pressed a hand to her forehead as the pitiful remnants of the human's soul cried out desperately in supplication, to no avail. Malak ignored it – or could not hear it, absorbed as he was – and Revan didn't have any idea what she could possibly do to help.

She pushed herself to her feet, guiltily relegating the screaming of the lost soul to a corner in the back of her mind. If she could not do anything to help, she would stand and be ready. It would do no one any good if she did not prepare for Malak's next attack.

When the last drop of liquid had disappeared into the drain at the bottom of the tank, Malak lowered his hand. The tank exploded with a bright flash of white light and the soul fled, leaving Revan with nothing but a simmering desire for revenge. Whether it was hers or the dead human's, she did not know.

Malak's eyes shone with intensity. "Now you see the true power of the Star Forge, Revan," he announced, and somehow, despite the metal jaw, there was a triumphant smile on his face. "You were always so taken with the ships and droids this station can produce… you never saw that its real power lay with the Force." He strode toward her, gesturing at the tanks surrounding them. "You can never destroy me, Revan, not here. On the Star Forge _I_ am the Master."

"You are no one's Master, Malak, least of all mine," she retorted, taking perverse pleasure in goading him after seeing what he had done to that captive human. "You have never been able to step out from beneath my shadow. You never understood why I moved against the Republic in the first place and since then you've done nothing but make mistake after mistake—"

It worked. He darted forward, curled fist outstretched toward her neck. She threw a hand up and _pushed_ with the Force; but the wave of her power crashed up against what felt like a solid durasteel wall. For the first time ever Malak had been able to resist her direct attack. Before she could react further, his gloved fingers closed around her throat and he slammed her up against the girder. Her head jerked back and connected with a loud crack.

Her vision blurred and swam as he tossed her roughly to the floor. She shook her head and blinked hard, trying to move, but her rib cage exploded with pain as Malak's armoured boot connected with her side. She groaned and rolled over, curling up instinctively to protect her injured ribs from further attack. At least one, maybe two, had to have been broken. Her survival instincts screamed at her to retreat into a ball and surrender, but she knew that if she did that everything she had gone through in order to get here would be for nothing. He would kill her without a second thought and then he would kill Bastila and Carth.

Revan forced herself to her feet, holding her bruised side and clenching her teeth against the throbbing pain. To her mild surprise Malak did not attempt to push her back down again, but paced back and forward before her. _Prowling_, she thought. As if he was confident enough to let her make the next move.

"Surprised aren't you, Revan?" he murmured, voice like molten carbonite. "This pleases me… greatly."

She spotted one of her lightsabers lying a short distance away. With a flick of the wrist, she called it to her and ignited it, only to have it wrenched from her grip with the Force and tossed away again. Another technique her former student had never been able to master to perfection. _Did the bodies in the tanks somehow add to Malak's power beyond simply healing his wounds? Did they give him extra strength?_

She found that although her subconscious was worried and frightened and pounding with adrenaline, her conscious mind was startlingly calm. Her anger had faded, and part of her was glad of that; but the more practical part worried that without it she would fail. It left a gnawing anxiousness in its wake, which did nothing but make her doubts grow.

"I wonder…" Malak mused, almost, but not quite, talking to himself. "I wonder if I should kill you after all, Revan. I had intended to, but… it seems like such a waste. There are so many uses I can think of for you. You would make such a good apprentice… and the sheer delight of hearing you call me 'Master'…"

He stopped moving, and looked directly at her. His eyes shone with pleasure at the idea. "What do you think, Revan? Would you like to call me Master?"

She glared at him, knowing full well that he was no longer simply talking about taking her as his apprentice. "I will die before I let that happen." She stepped tentatively to one side, judging his reaction to the movement. He didn't make any move to stop her, so she kept going, slowly, one step at a time. She knew she should think of a plan, some kind of tactical brilliance that would negate the effect the Star Forge technology was having on Malak, but for the moment it was difficult to think past the pain in her ribs. As she moved, she carefully devoted some energy to healing herself with the Force.

Malak didn't seem to notice her declaration. He continued pacing, keeping himself directly opposite her and matching her step by step. "You're hurting, aren't you, Revan." Her name rolled smoothly off his tongue, resonating into the silence. "You're trying to heal yourself. Did the Jedi teach you that?"

It was as if he had placed a hand directly between her body and the Force, blocking her access. She clenched her teeth, recognizing the technique as one she had taught him herself, one that had been particularly useful in the torture of captured Jedi. He had never been able to fully master it until now and it rankled that he was able to use it against her.

She gave up trying to heal herself and grabbed a shot of maximum strength kolto from a pocket in her robes. Malak seemed to find this extraordinarily funny. He threw his head back and laughed.

It had to be now.

She darted away, running for her lightsaber, ignoring the slightly dulled pain in her ribs. Malak kept laughing as she sprinted, hampered a little by her heavy robes. She stretched a hand out, calling for her saber, but before it could reach her she was enveloped in white lightning. Her teeth clenched and her muscles spasmed violently as she fell heavily to the floor. She screamed involuntarily as patches of her exposed skin sizzled, eternally grateful that the Star Forge had thought to make her robes at least fire-resistant, if not fire-proof.

Her mind roiled and her vision swam, leaving her unable to focus through the blinding pain. Dimly she felt Bastila's awareness of her, along with a vague impression of a lightsaber slashing harmlessly at a thick blast door. The younger Jedi was channeling Revan's pain into her own anger, a searing potent rage she could not control. Revan hoped Carth had the sense to stay out of the way even as Malak renewed his assault and her attention was dragged back to her pain.

Her screams became hoarse as the moisture was bled from her open mouth. She struggled to draw a breath, but the air was too thick. Soon she could not even get enough air to scream. And the realization hit her, even as she felt her robes begin to melt into her burning skin; there would be no more playing. She was going to die.


	4. Chapter 4

**Into Darkness Chapter Four**

Carth bent over the blast door's locking mechanism, forehead creased in concentration as he attempted to slice it open. Peripherally he was aware of Bastila pacing behind him, but he fought the urge to continually glance back at her. She was behaving like an angry, frustrated caged animal and it unnerved him. She had given up on her Battle Meditation shortly after Revan had headed for the bridge, and he hadn't the heart – or the courage – to persuade her to try it again. As much as her constant spouting of Jedi "wisdom" had annoyed him during their travels, at least she hadn't been this unpredictable before she turned to the dark side. It had been easy to wind her up, but he always knew that she would be back to her usual serene, implacable Jedi self soon after.

Now, there was none of that serenity anymore. It was like someone had taken her by the shoulders, shook her and told her that she was allowed to feel again. The problem was that she hadn't felt anything properly, honestly, in such a long time that she had no idea how to handle it. Her emotions were like water filling a glass to the brim, and her fear for Revan was pouring into that glass and causing it to overflow. Even he could feel it, despite a complete lack of any Force sense. He wondered how Revan could bear it, being bombarded with such unrestrained feelings through such a close bond.

_Revan. We have to get to her._

He ignored the icy chill of fear spreading from his head to his toes and redoubled his efforts on the door, inwardly cursing Malak for engineering this situation.

Suddenly Bastila gasped and made a sound that was somewhere between an anguished cry and a scream of rage. He started and spun around, and she was holding her head in her hands, eyes closed, wailing. He backed away, hand reaching instinctively for his blaster, but it was obvious her attention was not on him.

"Bastila? Bastila, do you hear me? What's happening?" he demanded.

She groaned again. "She's down," she forced out.

He swore, loudly and fervently. "Is she dead?" he demanded.

She looked up, and for a brief moment he saw the gentle, caring Jedi in her eyes, worried for her friend. "I don't know," she replied softly.

Then it was gone, and she was hurling herself violently at the door, lightsaber ignited and slashing at the cortosis-reinforced durasteel. He flinched as sparks flew, keeping a hand close to his blaster. She scared him, that was all there was to it. Just plain scared him.

Without warning, the blast door whooshed open.

Bastila stumbled as her saber met no resistance, falling reflexively into a battle stance. Carth pressed his back to the door frame, blasters drawn, and eased an eye around the metal wall. There was nothing but corridor ahead. No Dark Jedi, no militant droids, no Sith soldiers.

It seemed to have shocked Bastila to her senses. She glanced at him, eyes betraying her suspicion. "That wasn't you, was it?" He shook his head. She slowly straightened. "Then how…?" she trailed off, warily searching the corridor beyond.

"Perhaps Malak is… busy," he said with a grimace. There were far too many possible ways for Malak to be too busy to watch the door controls. He forced himself not to dwell on any of them.

Bastila had clearly been thinking the same thing. "Let's go." She took off down the corridor, Jedi speed leaving him in her wake. He followed as fast as his armoured body would carry him, finally catching up to her on the walkway leading to a large, open chamber.

He slowed as he approached her, boots echoing on the luminous deck plating. The chamber was lined with viewports set higher than the main floor, and surrounded on one side with a wide walkway. Lining the walkway on the main floor were tall vertical tanks lit by a sickly green light; he couldn't make out their contents from where he stood. As he drew even with Bastila, however, he saw what had stopped her in her tracks.

Two bodies lay motionless on the deck before one of the tanks.

Malak… and Revan.

His breath caught in his throat as he stood and stared at her crumpled form. He couldn't bring himself to move, to go to her, lest he confirm what he was dreading to find, but he still couldn't peel his eyes away from her still body. He tried vainly to discern a twitch of a finger, or a slight rise of the chest, but there was nothing.

"Malak is dead." Bastila's voice was a monotone.

"And Revan?" He held his breath.

She hesitated. "I don't know."

"What? Why don't you know?" he demanded, momentarily forgetting his fear of her. "You can tell that Malak is dead, but not Revan?"

Her eyes flashed, but she did not retort. "I… want her to be alive too much. I believe it is clouding my judgment."

He was immediately sorry for snapping at her. She had to be feeling the same way he was about going over there to find out. But someone would have to do it, and better they find out sooner than later.

Quickly, before he could second-guess himself, he strode over to Revan's still form. She lay face up, golden brown hair twisted beneath her head and splaying almost artfully over one shoulder. Her skin was red and raw, and her robes were burnt and still smoking in places.

He knelt down beside her and gingerly brushed hair away from her face, careful to avoid touching any of her skin. Her burns had to be the end result of a massive dose of Force lightning.

Anger boiled within him at the thought. "Revan?" he murmured hesitantly.

There was no response. He placed two fingers carefully on her neck, and his heart almost skipped a beat as he felt the vein beneath pulse weakly. "Bastila!" he shouted. "Get over here, she's alive!"

Bastila scrambled to kneel beside him, placing her hands carefully on Revan's temples. She closed her eyes and seemed to immediately sink away into her own world.

Carth gently took one of Revan's gloved hands in his own, watching her face for some sign of life. He prayed that Bastila was still able to heal, that the dark side hadn't taken too firm a hold of her… but somehow he doubted it, despite her display of uncontrolled rage a few moments ago. The moments of empathy and concern he had seen in her since she had returned were few, but they were strong and he could see them reflected in her eyes. It was almost as though she had subconsciously renounced the dark side somewhere along the way, and she simply hadn't fully realised it yet.

Nothing was happening to Revan. She still wasn't moving. He glanced hesitantly at Bastila, and saw the sheen of sweat lining her brow. It usually didn't cost her this much to heal, he remembered. Was he wrong about her having renounced the dark side? Or was Revan simply too far gone?

His grip tightened on her hand as he fought to ignore the lump in his throat. "Come on, Revan," he murmured. "It's not your time yet."

"Feels like it might be…"

Carth blinked, and his eyes flicked automatically to Bastila. But she hadn't moved, and suddenly Revan was holding his hand. Her grip was weak, but it was certain, and her eyes were cracked open. There was a sort of restrained grimace to her face that he didn't like. She was in pain, that was for sure, but in her eyes he saw more than physical wounds. "Revan," he whispered hoarsely, that one word containing all of his relief, worry that she would not be all right and overwhelming gratitude to find her still alive.

For a moment her eyes cleared, and she smiled faintly. She had understood what he hadn't said, as she always did.

"Lie still, Revan, just a few moments more," Bastila ordered, her voice clipped and strained. Sweat dripped from her forehead to her cheek as she concentrated.

The momentary happiness faded from Revan's eyes and she did as Bastila asked. Carth gently stroked her hair, grimacing as he studied her burnt skin up close. She would need kolto, lots of it, and soon. They had to end things here, so they could get her to a medical frigate.

He squeezed her hand and reached for his comlink. "I'll let Admiral Dodonna know we have control of the Star Forge. Hopefully she'll give us enough time to leave before she blows it to hell."

"Wait," Revan whispered, her voice rough and strained, like it hurt to talk. "Don't let her destroy it."

He frowned. "Revan, we can't just leave it here! What if it falls into the hands of the Sith again?"

"There are ways… to prevent that. Think of the Republic fleet… Malak and I… decimated it," she told him. "The Star Forge… can create new ships… I can show them how."

"But they'll never let you near it again!"

"I don't know… written instructions… Too valuable to destroy," she insisted, and she seemed to wilt with the effort of her conviction.

He studied her, looking into her intense blue eyes, worried that she had fallen as far as he had feared she would, after all. Her irises were vaguely jaundiced and the dark veins snaking out from her eyes were visible even beneath her burns. But despite the obvious physical signs, his gut instinct was telling him the opposite. She hadn't fallen at all; she never had. Oh, she had come close, he had seen darkness in her eyes at times. But in the end, he was sure she hadn't fallen. And he trusted her.

"All right," he replied, flicking the comlink open. Quickly he gave Admiral Dodonna a rundown of the situation. That she didn't like it was clear, but in the end she finally agreed to hold off on destroying the Star Forge until she could meet Revan face to face. He noticed that she made no promises as to what would happen to Revan, but he realised that they had no choice. Unless he was to run off with her and hide, they would have to face the Republic command eventually. And she was in no shape to start running.

As he finished his conversation with Dodonna, Bastila released her hold on Revan and slumped over, bracing herself with a hand on the floor. Inwardly he cursed. He couldn't carry them both back to the _Hawk_. "Bastila, stay with me," he said, reaching out to brace her arm with his hand. "You can't give up just yet."

She nodded. She braced herself for another moment, then visibly gathered her strength and gently removed Revan's head from her lap. Carth gathered the former Dark Lord in his arms, robes, armour and all, and lifted her from the floor. Thankfully she had slipped back into unconsciousness, so she wouldn't feel the pressure against her ravaged skin.

Bastila got to her feet as well, stumbling a little on the way, and Carth felt a sudden admiration for her inner strength. The torture Malak had put her through must have been indeed terrible to have broken that will.

Together they limped back through the deserted corridors of the Star Forge to the hangar bay, and the waiting silhouette of the _Ebon Hawk_.


	5. Chapter 5

_Apologies for the lateness of the update, Darth RL triumphs once again. Enjoy. :)_

~ Jayd

**Into Darkness Chapter Five**

Revan awoke to a soft bubbling noise. She opened her eyes with some difficulty; it felt as though something was weighing her eyelids down. Something that felt vaguely like a thick gel was covering her ears, moving within her eardrums and into her nose, and thick between her fingers. She forced her eyes open through the resistance and found that she seemed to be floating in a pale, sickly green world.

The shock hit her like a punch to the stomach—she had been captured by Malak, she was in one of those tanks and now she was trapped halfway between death and the Force—

Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape. There was a tube down her throat and some kind of breathing apparatus over her mouth—she tried to move her hand up to her face to get rid of it but there was a tube sticking out of her arm as well—

She looked up and tried to kick towards the hatch that had to be at the top of the tank, only to be restrained once more by tubes and wires. Her addled mind didn't connect the physical pain to the fact that she must still be alive. She quickly changed tactics and pushed herself as hard as she could into the side of the tank, hoping to break the glass or push it over or something—

Carth was waving at her from the other side of the glass.

Carth? What was he doing here?

Puzzled, her panic subsided a little and she stopped trying to force her way out of the tank. He was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't understand the waving of his arms. Finally he gave her a very clear 'look up' gesture. When she did, she saw that the hatch was being opened. A man dressed in a clean blue medic's tunic gestured to her to move toward him slowly. She obeyed him, and as she did the wires attached to her body slowly began to retract by themselves.

She broke the surface and blinked up at the man. She opened her mouth to speak, but the tube in her throat prevented that. He removed the breath mask and disappeared from view.

She hung in place, kicking occasionally to keep herself afloat in the thick liquid. Now that she was no longer immersed in it, the smell was familiar to her – kolto. Carth and Bastila must have brought her to one of the medical frigates, because the _Ebon Hawk_ did not contain a kolto tank. A chill spread through her. That meant she was now in Republic hands.

Something creaked below her, and the kolto began to drain away. She sank with it, her feet eventually finding the bottom of the tank. As the level of the liquid fell below her shoulders, however, she found herself still falling with it as her legs just wouldn't hold her full weight yet. Rather than fight it and fall to her rear when gravity inevitably won, she allowed herself to sink slowly to the metal grating.

A hatch in the rear of the tank clicked open, and two large human medics grabbed her under the arms and pulled her through. One wrapped a towel around her and held her on her feet while the other disconnected the tube in her throat. "Cough," he instructed briskly, wrapping a large hand around the shorter length of tube and beginning to pull.

She found herself coughing and gagging involuntarily anyway, grimacing as the tube was pulled out completely. The medics spared no words of comfort, but unceremoniously handed her off to Carth before leaving the room. The expression on his face was not cheerful.

"Guess they don't like me much," she murmured through a sore throat.

Carth hesitated before replying, rubbing her arms to warm her up. "They know who you are," he finally told her, obviously deciding the most direct way was better.

She nodded in understanding, wondering exactly how much they – and everyone – knew about recent events.

She pulled on the plain green medical gown Carth pointed out to her, refusing his offer of help as her legs shook. Her muscles were still weak and she moved slowly, but she knew it was important for her to start using them again as soon as she could. She didn't know how long she had been in that kolto tank, but the idea of being a helpless invalid was abhorrent to her. "Where's Bastila?" she asked, quickly reaching for the younger Jedi's presence in their bond. It was there; very faint, but there.

Carth leaned against the other bed, crossing his arms as he watched her. "She's with the Jedi Council, no doubt. As soon as they thought she was rested enough, they spirited her away. I don't know where to exactly, but I don't think they've left the fleet. Yet."

Revan nodded, fighting back a mix of emotions. Anger they had dragged her friend away with them, worry over what they would do to her when they found out about the decision the two of them had made at the temple, and just a tiny bit of relief that Bastila would no longer be subjected to her questionable influence. "And the others?"

"Canderous is currently being debriefed by Republic Intelligence."

Revan raised her eyebrows. "Interrogated?"

"I… don't think so. At the moment they're just talking to him, finding out what he knows."

"Hm."

"HK seems to have convinced technicians that he is simply a protocol droid that you bought for his ability to translate the Sand People dialect. They haven't been able to find anything to prove him wrong, although they've tried. He's being kept locked up somewhere out of the way. T3 has been put to work in the maintenance section."

She nodded, and there was a moment's silence as she worked up the courage to ask the next question. Carth had anticipated it, however.

"There has been no word yet from Mission or Zaalbar. I've asked the admiral to send search parties to the planet. Neither has there been any word from Jolee."

Revan swallowed and stared at her hands. Jolee had survived her attack, she was sure, but she had left him lying where he had fallen, unconscious and defenceless. What if they had missed a Sith or two in their sweep of the temple? Not to mention any survivors of her massacre of the Rakatan tribes. She had left him to their mercy.

With a sudden stab of fury at the weakness, she quashed her feelings of guilt. She regretted leaving him like she had, as she regretted leaving Mission and Zaalbar behind, but she would not wallow in useless guilt. Not even over what she had done to defeat Malak. Although it might make her feel better in the short term, in the end it accomplished nothing.

"When can I speak to Dodonna?" she asked, quickly changing the subject. "I want to know what she has planned for me."

"She indicated she would want to speak with you as soon as you were awake," Carth told her. "Are you up to it already?"

"I suppose have to be." She took a seat on the bed she had been leaning against, across from Carth. The medical gown was short and flimsy, but she arranged it as best she could to preserve her dignity. When she was done, she hoped she projected an aura of calm strength, although she had a sneaking suspicion it was more like exhausted stubbornness. She nodded to Carth, who raised his comm to his mouth and murmured into it.

A few moments later, the door to the medical centre slid open. A tall, stately middle-aged woman in a functional Republic uniform stepped in, cap sitting straight on meticulously pinned hair. Her face was tight, eyes hard and narrow, lips thin. She strode forward and halted directly before Revan, her eyes ruthlessly calculating.

Revan returned the stare, carefully keeping any hint of outright defiance from her eyes.

"Darth Revan." Dodonna's address betrayed fierce triumph.

"Just Revan," the younger woman replied softly.

"No, I don't think so." Dodonna's eyes flashed. "Revan is how one would address an acquaintance, a friend, a foe - someone of passing consequence. Darth Revan was a Sith Lord, a murderer and a traitor, and will not be let slip away so easily. You will answer for what you have done."

Carth started to his feet. "Now wait a minute, Admiral—"

Dodonna spun. "Captain Onasi! Have you reported for duty yet?"

"No, of course not, I've been—"

"You are dismissed, soldier." The Admiral's command left no room for discussion, but even so Carth resisted.

"I'm not leaving," he insisted, but Revan shook her head.

"It's all right, Carth," she said. A wry grin touched her lips. "I'm a big girl."

He stood for another moment, studying her face as if trying to find any small part of her that wanted him to stay. She had so thoroughly steeled herself for this meeting, however, that nothing showed. Her face was a cool, blank mask. He left without another word.

"Admiral Dodonna," Revan finally returned the Admiral's greeting when the door slid shut behind Carth. With an effort she recalled the mask she had worn as Darth Revan and made her voice smooth, calm, and cold as steel, and her eyes like chips of ice. It was not pleasant, but she sensed perceptions would be important here. "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

The Admiral appeared slightly taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor of the former Dark Lord. For a moment she appeared to remember who exactly she had sitting in front of her. But then the momentary weakness passed and the two women once more locked eyes, on even ground. "Darth Revan. I don't know how you manage to appear regal in a backless gown."

Revan refused to be thrown. "You are not here to make flimsy jokes. I would prefer it if we could get to the point."

Dodonna inclined her head. "You insisted we refrain from destroying the Star Forge. Why?"

Revan's stare was penetrating. "You cannot be the commander of a fleet without a fleet, Admiral. I seem to remember destroying most of yours."

Dodonna's eyes flashed. "That may be so, but the Republic will not employ hardware of Sith origin."

"The Star Forge is not a Sith construct. It was built by an ancient race long before the Republic came to be, and you would be a fool not to take advantage of it."

Immediately Revan regretted her choice of words. She was not trying to be argumentative, only to stand her ground and establish some boundaries. She knew full well that she was a prisoner and that she was very much at the Republic's mercy, but something told her that it was not time to give in completely. And the Star Forge remaining functional was part of that.

Dodonna studied the former Sith Lord's face, then spun and paced away from her. "Perhaps you are right," she muttered. Revan kept quiet, giving Dodonna a chance to think. When the Admiral finally turned to face her again, she seemed resigned to a decision but not particularly happy about it. "You will need to teach us how it works."

Revan inclined her head, concealing her satisfaction.

Dodonna sighed and removed her cap, tossing it on a nearby recovery bed. "I know—the Republic knows you killed Darth Malak and brought the Star Forge's defenses down, but your companions have been interviewed, and their stories about your quest for these Star Maps differ wildly. We don't know whether to believe you have renounced the dark side or not. The Jedi Council – what remains of it after Malak's attack on Dantooine – has not chosen to let its opinion on the matter be known."

"What do you intend to do with me, then?"

"You will be incarcerated for your own protection until you can be brought to a fair trial. You will receive adequate representation and an impartial judiciary."

Revan refrained from laughing out loud at the idea of an impartial judiciary. "But I will be found guilty."

"Yes."

Her first reaction was anger. So easy to feel, and so familiar and comforting, she allowed it to briefly course through her body.

After her anger had passed, it took all of Revan's strength to maintain her composure as the enormity of what she had done as a Sith Lord threatened to overwhelm her. Dark memories and fatalistic murmurs reverberated through her mind, whispering that they were right to make an example of her, to try her and convict her and... execute her. It would be for the good of the galaxy, and the good of her ravaged soul.

But she fought hard to suppress those voices, because behind them there was another voice. It was quiet, barely discernible, but strong and level. It was telling her that she should not give it all up just yet, it was not time for her to roll over and die. It was maddeningly elusive, however, and try though she might, she could not find a reason for it to be so insistent. She was almost certain it came from the Force, but she could not tell which side.

Suddenly she felt more tired than she had ever been in her life. For the moment – for just this one moment – she would give up, damn the Force. She sighed. "This is the right thing to do."

The Admiral was silent, watchful, for a moment. Then she inclined her head. "The medics have told me you are well enough to leave the medical centre. Get dressed and we will go."

The cell they brought her to was on the Republic flagship and was similar to those she had seen aboard the _Leviathan_. Utilitarian, bare, and very secure. A thick force field covered the entrance, but once she was behind the force field there was room to move. A thinly padded bunk was set back into the rear wall, next to a small refresher. There were no corners to the cell, only rounded edges, and all was white and grey, cold metal. Every inch of the cell was visible from outside the force field, and tiny recesses in the ceiling betrayed the locations of security holo recorders and other devices. With a chill Revan realised that if she wasn't at the Republic's mercy before, she well and truly was now.

Her guards shoved her through the entrance and immediately switched the force field on. All four of them glared at her from the other side, their faces distorted by the tangible energy between them. One stepped forward, coming as close to the force field as safety allowed. "Try something while you're in there, Sith scum," he spat. "_Please_ try something."

She didn't respond, knowing it would not be wise to rile them up, and watched as another guard took this one by the elbow and pulled him away. The four of them left, and she was alone.

She glanced up at the recesses in the ceiling and the ambiguous fixtures concealed within, wondering at what he had said. It was possible the Republic had taken precautions beyond what she could see in their efforts to keep her locked up. In fact, it would not surprise her in the least if they didn't trust that she was ready to be held accountable for her crimes. In their place, she would do the same.

She walked around the edges of her cell, examining her surroundings as best she could and exercising her weakened muscles. She was not the only one in the cell block, she could feel others through the Force, but they were at least four or five cells away. They had isolated her quite thoroughly.

As she moved slowly around and around her cell, unwilling to sit still, a guard patrolled along the passageway outside the force field. His movements seemed regular, but by no means was he relaxed. Every time he passed her cell he glanced inside, and she could see the wariness on his face. As if he was waiting for her to pounce.

She kept moving, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. Her throat was beginning to tighten as the realization slowly began to dawn on her that it was indeed time to be held accountable, time to acknowledge her true identity.

Time to stop hiding behind Ella Oron.

Despite everything she had done after the Jedi had reprogrammed her mind with the identity of Ella, the fact remained that she had murdered millions of sentients across the galaxy when she attacked the Republic. She had killed fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends, lovers, and children, and destroyed the lives of those they left behind. She had corrupted countless Jedi, turning them to the dark and watching them destroy each other as they fought for power. She had brought down governments, collapsed treaties and destroyed worlds – sometimes for nothing but her own amusement.

The guilt welled up within her and she had to sit, lest the tired muscles in her legs give way. She sat heavily on the small bunk and clenched her hands in her lap, nails pressing indentations into her palms. She stared at her hands, laughing bitterly at the clichéd image of blood soaking her fingers that appeared unbidden in her mind. Her eyes felt hot and her vision blurred, but she stubbornly refused to let a single tear fall. She would not give them the satisfaction.

Instead she did the only other thing she could think of to do. She folded her cloak into a pillow, rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come.


End file.
